The Phoenix and The Riddler
by thenerdnextdoor
Summary: "Your writing is atrocious," I called to him, looking down at the green paint as I cocked a hip out and crossed my arms. "Your manners are deplorable," he replied stiffly, "And my writing is hardly 'atrocious'." "Are you kidding? It took me three tries to read what it said." - Kenna and Edward return in a one-shot based in Arkham City. Set after The Phoenix. Riddler/Kenna.


**Hello! I've had this in my head for a while now, so I just had to get it down somewhere. Just to be clear, THIS IS NOT A SEQUEL**. **It is merely a one-shot set after the events of The Phoenix.**

**It's set in ****_Batman: Arkham City _****but I put it under the comics category because that's where The Phoenix was and also because the Edward in the game is too old for my story. **

**So, yeah, enjoy some more Edward/Kenna stuff, and if you're reading this without knowing what the hell The Phoenix is, then here's my message to you: reading the first story isn't essential; but it will help you understand what Kenna means at one point.**

**DISCLAIMER: Still don't own anything to do with Batman - only own The Phoenix.**

* * *

"D'you know where Bruce Wayne is hiding out?" I asked Selina, scratching one of her many cats' head.

She smirked. "No, I think he's just... _walking around_, really."

I frowned suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

She donned an overly innocent countenance. "Well, it would be dangerous for him if he stayed in one place and someone found out where it was, right? If he keeps moving, no one can pinpoint his location and attack."

"But if he's 'walking around' then surely someone's gonna spot him," I countered, "It's not like anyone's gonna mistake him for a criminal. Didn't you see the fancy-ass suit he was wearing when he got taken in?" She stood and sauntered over to the window of her apartment, upon which two cats were lounging, and hummed an indifferent reply. I rolled my eyes at her back. "Well, no doubt your boyfriend's gonna rescue him, if he hasn't already."

"He isn't my boyfriend, Kenna," she sighed impatiently.

My eyebrow quirked at the bitterness in her tone. "What's wrong? Does the good guy not want to get serious with the bad girl?"

She turned to me and rolled her eyes. "After the _incident_ in the Courthouse, he was completely professional. Didn't respond to my flirting at all."

"Is he trying to solve whatever messed up shit is going on in here?"

She nodded with a smirk. "Heroic, right?"

I stood and gave her a smile. "Well, the hero always gets the girl."

"Do you really think this is gonna go like a fairytale?"

I walked over to the open window and shooed the cats out of my way. "You two are like Romeo and Juliet."

"So we're gonna die?"

"Aren't we all?" I grinned. "C'mon, in a city like this?"

She waved a hand dismissively at me. "Go find your own Romeo."

I scoffed. "He's hardly Romeo material."

"Well, go find him anyway, you're irritating my babies."

I rolled my eyes at her cooing and slipped from her windowsill, landing in a roll on the floor of the cage outside. "Remember to close your door after me," I called up to her.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," she nodded, closing the window.

I grinned and walked out into the darkness, pulling my domino mask over my eyes. It was snowing and all over the city, thugs were complaining about the freezing temperatures; but thanks to my little fire gift, I was completely immune to it. I could only wish that I was as immune to the smells emanating from every street and alleyway in this stupid place.

Honestly, when I heard that everyone was going to be moved from Arkham Asylum to Arkham _City_, I thought they meant the inmates were going to get moved to some facility on a remote island somewhere far away – it might have improved the state of Gotham, if they had done that – but, no. What they actually meant was they were taking a part of Gotham, building a huge protective and impenetrable wall to surround it, and sticking all the inmates and prisoners inside it. _Who in their right mind would do something like that?_ Even I – a 'crazy', 'unstable' criminal – could see that the city was a moronic idea. Yes, it created opportunities and allowed more freedom in imprisonment; but it also meant that the big guys, the Rogues, were a gunshot away from tearing each other to shreds, because they couldn't take it out on innocent people.

And what good would that do Gotham?

Sure, the people could live their lives in happiness and serenity and they wouldn't be looking over their shoulders in case of a surprise mugging; but that would just make everything so _boring_. The city _needed_ crime, it needed _us_. If not, the GCPD officers would be out of jobs, or at least bored out of their skulls. And that would mean that they'd grow more irritable towards the innocent citizens of Gotham, they'd be less tolerable of petty crimes. And _that_ would mean that the citizens would start to rebel against their harsh treatment, some might even turn to more serious crimes – and then what? The city would be right back where it started. There'd be another guy running around like a lunatic, maybe this time calling himself "The Funny Guy", and maybe another one looking down on everyone else called "The Really Smart and Eternally Confusing Guy", and _maybe_ even one called "The Unbelievably Cold Guy".

So, it was obvious. The city needed us so that they didn't descend into a bunch of pathetic criminals trying to recreate old chaos. Whether they wanted to admit it or not, Gotham's criminals benefited the city and its people, and we were here to _stay_.

As I walked along the rooftops of this idiotic prison, my gaze fell upon Wonder Tower, the centre of the TYGER Security force. Even as I stood glaring at the lit up monument, TYGER helicopters were roaming the sky, constantly shining spotlights upon the streets. I wasn't sure if I preferred the cell in the original asylum, or the monitored freedom in the city. _I guess there's more chance that you can slip away unnoticed out here_.

The unmistakable sound of heavy boots landing on the roof behind me met my ears, though he didn't come any closer. "I'm not doing anything, just enjoying the sights," I commented sarcastically.

"I'm not here to hurt you," his deep, throaty voice replied.

"Yeah, I know." I turned to face him. "Do you know what the hell is going on here?"

He pinned me to the spot with his piercing blue gaze, intimidating but not threatening. "I'm not sure yet; but I'm going to find out."

I nodded. "I don't like this Hugo Strange guy," I mused, looking at Wonder Tower. "He just appears out of nowhere with this idea, and _Mayor_ Quincy rolls with it. Just like that. Seems fishy to me."

"I need your help."

I glanced at him briefly with raised eyebrows. "You want me to burn it down? I'm totally up for that."

"No," he growled, irritated. I turned away from him and smirked into the darkness. "Has Nygma got any information about Arkham City, or Strange and Quincy? Has he told you anything?"

"Are you kidding? You know what the man's like – he enjoys being smarter than everyone else. Including me. So, no, he hasn't said anything. _But_, every time he sees Quincy or hears Strange, he'll either go in a really big huff or become even more smug than usual. Therefore he hates them; but he knows something."

"I'm sure he'd talk to you if you asked."

"Trust me, he wouldn't," I scoffed.

"He wouldn't even talk to his girlfriend?"

_Oh my God, shut the hell up._ "Like you talk to yours?" I turned to face him again, quirking an eyebrow at his confusion. "C'mon, she could've died in that Courthouse and you didn't even comfort her."

"She seemed fine."

"It's the thought that counts, big guy. You never know, that might have been your only chance for alone time with her in this place, and you blew it."

He stood staring at me for a moment. Then, "This is wasting my time, Fyrian," he growled. And with a theatrical sweep of his cape, he leapt off the building.

* * *

I was almost back to the hideout when I saw something unmistakably green mucking about on a rooftop. I sighed irritably and made my way over, examining the three large, green, electrical question marks he'd placed on three separate walls. A little while away was the thorn-like dome encasing the glowing green trophy. Scribbled on the ground in – _oh, what a refreshing surprise _– green paint was "_Are you up to the challenge?_" Or, at least, I _thought_ that's what it said – I couldn't really tell.

"Your writing is atrocious," I called to him, looking down at the green paint as I cocked a hip out and crossed my arms.

"Your manners are deplorable," he replied stiffly, "And my writing is hardly 'atrocious'."

"Are you kidding? It took me three tries to read what it said."

I watched in fond amusement as he turned and stomped towards me, his face the picture of embarrassed fury, until he stood about an inch away. "It doesn't matter," he said quietly, "It's not meant for you."

I sighed. "I'll write this shit for you, if you want. It'll save you time," I added at the look he sent me. "C'mon, we make a good team, right?" I grinned, patting his cheek.

"I wouldn't describe our collaborations as generously as that," he commented under his breath, turning to walk back to his question mark.

I followed after him, donning an expression of mock thoughtfulness. "You make a good point," I agreed. From my view of the side of his face, I saw him smirk at my acknowledgment. "Usually when we collaborate, I'm just saving your sorry ass and you're trailing around after me like a lost puppy."

He sighed heavily. "You seem to believe that I'm never forced into saving _you_."

"'Forced'?" I repeated, offended. "I was enjoying the thought that you came to 'save' me willingly, and now you've just destroyed it. Thanks a lot, asshole."

"Kenna–ˮ

"No, no. I get it. I'm just a burden."

I heard his footsteps following me as I walked away. "I didn't–ˮ

"Maybe I _should_ make a move on the big guy. Something about 'The Dark Knight' is just so... _alluring_."

His hand closed tightly around my wrist, whirling me back round so I nearly crashed into his chest. Deep, dark blue eyes glared intensely into my soul, his expression practically yelling at me. "Don't," he growled.

I frowned, feigning innocence. "Don't do what? If I'm getting in your way, then maybe it's time to mingle again."

His other hand settled on my hip with a firm grasp. "You know as well as I do that you do not get in my way."

"Then why do you always make it sound like I do?" I asked, dropping the act.

He scowled defensively. "I'm unaccustomed to this kind of relationship."

"I'm not exactly an expert either," I countered, "Remember?"

He sighed, his face softening somewhat, and leant his forehead against mine. "Sometimes I forget," he murmured. "The way you act... the flirting, the seduction – I'm not used to it. You're so _unpredictable_ and everything about us is illogical."

I quirked an eyebrow. "'Illogical'?" _Didn't realise I was dealing with Spock, here_.

"It is in our best interests – as criminals – to ensure that no emotional bonds or attachments are formed, in case of a hostile third party preying upon such attachments. They are a weakness. And can easily obliterate those affected by the attachment. Therefore any kind of relationship between us, which goes deeper than business, is dangerous and illogical."

I smirked. "How romantic." He clenched his jaw and pulled his forehead from mine. "What are you trying to say, Edward?" I sighed.

A small smile grew on his face as I spoke his name, a smile that still sent my heartbeat on a rollercoaster. "I am attempting to inform you that going against what's logical is still relatively foreign to me; but I _am_ trying–ˮ he made an uncomfortable face, "– for you."

I chuckled at his discomfort, slipping my wrist from his grasp, running my hands up his chest until they wrapped around the back of his neck. His now free hand grasped my other hip and he took a tentative step closer. "I appreciate that this is hard for you," I told him honestly, "And I have to admit, it's hard for me too; but I just want you to know that I never wanted you to _change_ for me. You are who you are, and that's who I'm here for – not some overly sensitive romanticist. So when you're trying to ignore your natural responses, make sure you don't lose them."

His eyelids had fluttered shut about halfway through my speech as my fingers sifted through the hair at the nape of his neck, a smug smirk gradually forming. "It's refreshing to have someone who genuinely appreciates my brilliance – have I told you that before?"

"Once or twice," I nodded sarcastically.

He opened his wonderful blue eyes to gaze at me. "You truly are unique."

I was caught off guard by the sudden and unexpected compliment, my mouth opening and closing like a fish. His full-blown smirk told me he got the exact reaction he was looking for. _You look like a brain-dead moron; take back the control!_ "Well, how many smokin' hot women do you know that can light up like a bonfire with the click of a finger?"

He grinned. "Only one."

I mirrored his expression, leaning up towards him. "Damn straight," I murmured against his lips. He gently pulled on my hips, bringing my body flush against him as his head dipped lower and he pressed his lips against mine. I wrapped my arms further around his neck, holding the back of his head and tangling my fingers in his choppy, dirty-blonde hair. His fingers tightened their grip on my hips, his lips moving against my own and sending my heart into a frenzy. His warm, heavy breath hit my tingling skin whenever our lips pulled even a millimetre apart, as one of his arms slid around my waist to hold me even tighter. A small, involuntary moan escaped me, causing him to grin smugly against my lips. Scowling, I slipped my tongue into his mouth and rubbed it against his, hearing his own throaty groan escape.

Satisfied that we were equal, I slowly pulled away and looked up at him. His pupils were dilated, his breathing heavy and ragged. "There are definitely some advantages to being illogical," he told me huskily, glancing at my lips.

I smirked. "You haven't even experienced the best yet," I replied in a low, suggestive voice, leaning up to press my lips against his neck.

His fingers tightened further still. "Kenna, don't– I– can you postpone that until we are no longer on the rooftops where anyone can see us?"

I chuckled and pressed my lips against his briefly before pulling away. "Sure thing." I walked over to the paint pot and paint brush he had sitting by his tools and picked them up. "So, what am I writing?" He was still stood where I'd left him, watching me with an unreadable expression. "Yo, Edster?"

He rolled his eyes, returning to normal, and joined me by his tools. "When will you stop addressing me by that derisory nickname?"

"When it stops being funny," I shrugged.

"It wasn't funny the first time."

"It was for me and it still is now – therefore I shall continue to call you Edster. Especially if you go all weird like that again." He sent me a fleeting glance and then walked to his question mark, continuing his work.

I thought back to my meeting with Batman and sighed quietly. "Edward?" He hummed a reply to let me know he was listening. "Do you know anything about this place?"

He smirked. "Of course I do."

I rolled my eyes. "Fancy sharing?"

He turned to stare at me. "Why the sudden interest?"

I knew from past experiences that he knew when I was lying, so I prepared myself for a verbal onslaught. "Batman wanted to know if you knew anything."

His expression slowly turned dangerous, and he lowered his tools. "Why did you speak with him?"

"Would you rather he beat the information out of me?" I snapped, watching his jaw clench firmly. Sighing, I forced myself to relax. "Look, I don't think he approves of this idea very much either. He wants to stop whoever's behind it and he'll do that faster if he has help."

"Then help him," he said lowly, turning back to his question mark. "Because I will not."

_Stay calm, getting angry won't help your case._ "Come on, Edward," I said, walking over to him. "The only reason I let myself get caught and taken into this god-awful place was so that I could help you form an escape plan. Tell him what you know and we'll be out of here soon."

"I have everything I need in here," he said, looking at me.

"Those innocent people aren't going to last very long, you know," I retorted. "Either Batman saves them and gets them out, or some other criminal kills them. And do you really want to stay here when there are TYGER helicopters all over the place watching your every move?" He sighed almost disappointedly and turned away. Again. "I mean, _sure_ you get more playtime with Batman; but there's less for the other Rogues to do so they're going to be after him as well, and that'll reduce the time he can spare for you."

He finished with the question mark and walked over to the dome cover, brushing past me. "He'll have to make time for me when his beloved, innocuous citizens are under threat." He looked out into the darkness over the city. "In such an enclosed place, I have a greater chance of ascertaining his true identity."

I went to his side and followed his gaze, watching as a TYGER helicopter flew close to us. It slowed to a halt, hovering above us, its blindingly white spotlight illuminating our figures. I slowly put down the paint and stood with my palms open, ready to take the beast down. For a few seconds it just hovered there, as the occupants presumably discussed our status with Strange. "You should hack into their radio," I told Edward.

"Give it another half-hour and I'll be in," he replied quietly.

I smirked and looked over at him. "That's my Edster – always looking ahead."

He glared at me. "I told you to stop."

"I do what I want."

The helicopter turned away from us and continued its patrol across the city. After a moment of silence, he spoke up again. "In the asylum Strange had been consulting with the Mad Hatter." My eyebrows shot up and I turned to look at him in surprise. "Are you going to tell Batman?" He turned away from me and worked on the dome while I watched him cautiously. _I want to get out of here; but I don't want to get in the way of his plans..._

"No," I replied eventually.

He looked over his shoulder at me with a smile. "Good."

"So, Strange was interested in mind control?" I asked.

"He still is."

I frowned at the roof, wondering why. _What good would mind control do him? Who would he use it on? _Suddenly I remembered what I'd said to Batman: "_He just appears out of nowhere with this idea, and Mayor Quincy rolls with it. Just like that._" I lifted my gaze to Edward's back and then looked out at Wonder Tower. "Quincy," I said. "He's controlling Quincy."

Edward turned to me with a pleased expression. "Nice of you to join me."

I was too surprised and confused to snap back at him. "He convinced Quincy that Arkham City was a good idea; but _why_? What's wrong with it that would put Quincy off?"

"Protocol 10."

"But what _is_ that?"

He looked over at me again, displaying for the first time a hint of wariness. "I'm not certain; but it's obviously something bad to do with the criminal population of Gotham. Gathering them all in one place, with military-like security..." he trailed off.

"There's only one possible outcome," I finished, nodding. "So, uh, remind me again why we're not getting the _fuck_ out of here?"

* * *

**So, yeah, just wanted to put a one-shot out there for those that are interested. Hope it wasn't boring or anything. I'm not sure when another one-shot will be released; but I have got an idea for another one so it will come eventually.**

**Thanks for taking the time to read! See y'all later.**

**(P.S did anyone get the Loki reference or are y'all more DC Comics fans?)**


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